Kind of wanted to do something cool today with pictures, but I'll just let her, er, 'er rip. (EDITOR'S NOTE: Have included pictures.)

The highlight of the weekend might very well have been the 17-plus minutes of football The Godfather and I watched in Massillon.

(On the way to the game, we started spelling M-A-S-S-I-L-L-O-N and broke into a tomahawak war chant simultaneously. For no reason.)

Kettering Alter, who had a female player, lost to Steubenville 34-33. Godfather and I, after driving two hours to the game, pronounced the game "fucking over" in the second quarter when Steubenville led 34-13, only to turn it on the radio a few hours later and listen to Kettering Alter almost go in for the final score.

It's not like we paid any money to watch the game. We snuck in before kickoff through some gate and loitered in the bathroom. (Me in stall.)

The Steubenville student section was all class. Holding up signs like "Suck it," and "Girl, get in the kitchen."



On the way back home, I stopped to take a "dude, I have to piss" and we almost got into a terrible car accident but survived.

Went into the Slo-Pitch at 7:30 p.m. and then again at 10:30 p.m. McGinley and I got into a brief argument and then he proclaimed I had "hated him four nights in a row," which I then thought, "wait a minute, I have loved him for 365-plus."

It was the first time I have ever been chased out of a bar (by a male).

"Do you have any idea of how much I've had to drink," he asked.

Sleepy and I then went into full deception mode with some girl with a huge set of Boots at the bar. She was with, of course, the unfriendly friend. I had talked to Huge Set of Boots a few years ago and since I have an amazing memory, I remembered a nice set of ... a nice set of ... nice set of facts, yes facts, about her. She went to Kentucky, was in some sorority, so Sleepy and I began talking about our time at UK and there may have been some googling done on our phones to figure out various landmarks around UK's campus. She seemed into the whole ball of wax.



Snap comma oh.

That fizzled at the end and Sleepy, Hoodie (who was Michigan's biggest fan this weekend), The Godfather and I proceeded to afterhours at my place where we had some beers and I wrote down some of the conversation for this very blog.

The notes, written on the back of a Canadian ice hockey advertisement inside a women's hockey magazine, are overall eligible, but Hoodie, Sleepy and I did sing Weezer's El Scorcho without the aid of any half-Japanese girls.



Yesterday was yesterday. I produced some work for a publication in the Pacific Northwest and went to Brewster's with the trendy's.

I am laying off the sauce until Thursday night, but if anyone would like to go out before then, I am, of course, game on.

- Art McGregor